Call Me By Your Name Novel Mga Nobela at Kwento

“I unlocked more of the angelic grace you have inside you.” I take a deep breath, feeling like I just chugged two coffees. “I am proud of you, Callie. And I know your mother would have been too.” “What was her name?” My voice is all shaky with emotion again. “Callista.” He smiles. “For some reason Nancy Martin knew you didn’t look like an Ashley the moment she laid eyes on you.” “I always thought Callista was too exotic of a name for her to have picked.” The Blue-Eyed Man looks at the sky and then rises to his feet. “It’s been long enough. I need to get you home.”

He really didn't remember me? Something inside of me snapped, “I am not your love. Don't call me that.” I snapped, my jaw clenching as I glared at him. “What should I call you then?” He asked as he lit a cigarette. “Bella,” I say with a straight face, watching his face. But he doesn't recognize my name. How is it possible? “Bella,” he whispered my name and licked his lips. He bent down slightly, “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

I asked, tilting my head to the side in a playful manner. " And.........what, if I may ask, sir?" his face leaned forward as he asked, all his attention was on me and I was sure of that. " First of all, I want you to drop the honorifics and quit calling me sir, okay? I'm not some old man who's about to be sent to a health centre. I'm a young, vibrant man and I'll like you to call me by my name, and that name is Hunter", I was just reminded of the movie ' Call Me By Your Name ' and I wished I had used that statement - no worries, we'll save the sweet words for later.

Then, the driver calls my name. "Mia Corvin?" My heart leaps into my throat. I didn't tell him my name. How does he know? He turns around slightly, his eyes crinkle with a mischievous smile. "I have a phone call for you." He holds out a burner phone. Terror grips me, cold and paralyzing. This can’t be happening right now. Am I ever safe? With trembling hands, I take the phone. "Hello?" I whisper, my voice barely audible.

But I could feel his eyes all over me, as if threatening to pounce on me if I said anything else. “What's your name?” He asked, his voice still emotionless. I hesitated. “Speak when I ask you to!” He raised his voice, making me jolt. What did an eleven year old girl coming back from the library do to deserve such treatment. “Stephanie Abrams.” I mumbled, my voice shaking. And, that was it… That's all I remembered. After that, I just became Adeline Black. But I knew. I knew I recognized the name Mikaela. I remembered calling the name softly once, while I was still Stephanie. I remembered everything.

I swallowed continuously, my hands gripping tightly onto each other, for some weird and confusing reasons, her gaze seemed to bore a hole in me and make me nervous. “You’re a Luna?!” She asked, I swallowed for the umpteenth time and nodded slowly in response to her question. “To who?!” She asked. “Callum— Alpha Callum of Willow Brooke,” I responded, she lowered her brows at me and slowly leaned backwards. “That’s quite obvious,” she muttered in reply. I wanted to ask her what she meant by that but then I decided to let it slide. Shortly after, Myla returned with a book and stretched it over to me.

“What do you mean again?” Yeah. He caught that. I shot up from the bed, grabbed my robe from the footboard, and wrapped it around me like armor. The room was chilly, but not nearly as cold as the knot tightening in my chest. “In Santorini, Axel.” My voice was sharp, brittle. I couldn’t look at him. “You did the exact same thing. You called me by her name. You even... you even tried to touch me like I was... her.” My voice cracked at the end, but I forced myself not to look away.

I just stood there, frozen, staring at the phone. The girl paused, then said, a little thrown, "Liam? You there?" That voice—I knew it. It was Nina. Eighteen. Memories slammed into me like a wave. Twelve years ago, around this time, Nina called to tell me she was in love. I forced the panic down. My voice came out dry. "What do you want with Liam?" She hesitated. "Who is this?" I dodged it. "You're calling Liam Lambert... planning to confess, right?"

What if I was bothering him? “Ivy,” Maria said softly. “Call him.” I looked at her. “He said you could, didn’t he?” I nodded slowly. “Then call.” My fingers tightened around the card. Slowly… carefully… I pulled it out. The name stared back at me. Zayn Kane. Even his name felt… powerful. I took a shaky breath and reached for my phone. My hands trembled as I dialed the number. Each ring felt louder than the last. Once… My heart pounded. Twice… I almost hung up. Three… The call connected.

“No, Nova. It’s not enough until you understand where you belong. Stay out of my way — and stay away from him. Because the next time you don’t, I won’t stop at words.” Then, with a smirk, she shoved one of my books off my arm and sauntered away, her friends laughing behind her. The hallway was silent for a moment. All eyes were on me — some curious, some pitying, others quietly impressed that I didn’t break down. I bent to pick up my book again, but my fingers shook too much to hold it properly. As I stood there, breath shallow, my phone buzzed in my pocket. A message from Frederick. “ I’m outside. Come to the car”.